


anime for the soul

by thunderylee



Series: love february 2021 [15]
Category: NEWS (Japan Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Shige struggles to write a soulmate universe.
Relationships: Kato Shigeaki/Koyama Keiichiro
Series: love february 2021 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138346
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	anime for the soul

**Author's Note:**

> love february day 21: soulmate! i wasn't going to write this one, then i realized i didn't actually need to make the effort for a proper soulmate au. xD

After the fifth time he deletes a big block of text, Shige gives up. No matter how hard he tries, how much caffeine he ingests or how many romantic comedies he suffers through, he can’t get this feeling to come out right.

Twenty years ago, he would at least have a wastebasket overflowing with crumpled up papers to show for his effort. Instead, there’s just a blinking cursor that taunts him every time he tries again.

Stupid soulmate universes. The newest trend in fiction, particularly stories geared toward young adults. What started off as a fanfiction trope morphed into so many published books and TV shows that everyone who was the least bit creative was jumping on the bandwagon. Commercials even depicted people finding each other due to a physical mark or feature connecting them.

“Kato-sensei, you _have_ to write a soulmate universe!” he was consistently told by his fans, his colleagues, and his mother.

Truth be told, Shige thought the entire concept was ridiculous. It’s one thing to meet someone and feel that kind of intangible connection, but to have something magically appear on your skin is a little much. There are a myriad of ways people write it, from having the song the other person is currently listening to in your head to wearing actual threads on your fingers that point toward them, but every single one involves a substantial suspension of disbelief that Shige prides himself on _not_ invoking.

He’s written science fiction that’s more realistic than soulmate universes for fuck’s sake.

It doesn’t help that he’s also, as his last datefriend put it, the most unromantic tool on the planet. Shige’s drawn to writing in order to create his own worlds, to introduce _one_ element into society that butterfly-effects the whole future—not hook people up. There are more than enough romance writers out there to fill that void, in his opinion. He doesn’t need to waste his time with such trivial connections in fiction _or_ reality.

Yet here he is trying to make it happen. Something about rising to the challenge which sounded a lot better in his last interview than it does in his head right now. While being a published author typically drives him to attempt genres and styles he hasn’t considered before, there’s a big difference between tapping into undeveloped potential and forcing something that just won’t work.

“Fuck _thisssss_ ,” Shige grumbles as he closes his laptop lid defiantly. It doesn’t do anything but put his system to sleep, but it makes him feel a little better.

His roommate is still where Shige left him several hours ago, curled up on the couch watching anime. His fluffy cat snoozes in his lap, her purring audible from across the room. Typical Saturday night for TV’s hotshot newscaster Koyama Keiichiro.

“I can’t do this,” Shige whines as he flops on the other edge of the couch, disturbing Milk enough to earn a furry side-eye. “I can’t write romance.”

“So don’t,” Koyama answers, easily like that’s the most obvious solution in the world, one that doesn’t even require him to look away from the scantily-clad girls bouncing around on the TV.

“But I _have_ to.”

“Why?”

“I said I would.”

“No, you said you would write a soulmate universe. You didn’t say you would write romance.”

Shige blinks as he turns to stare at Koyama. “Are they not the same thing?”

Slowly, Koyama lifts the remote and pauses the show. Then he turns toward Shige with a sigh that sounds far too exasperated from someone who hasn’t moved all day.

“ _Everyone_ is writing romantic soulmate plots. The ways they’re connected are all different, but inevitably they’re monogamous heteronormative relationships that end with nuclear families.”

“You’re spending far too much time on Twitter if you’re using words like ‘heteronormative’ and ‘nuclear families’,” Shige mutters, while Koyama grins proudly like he’s singlehandedly dismantling the patriarchy from their couch. “I’ve seen polyamorous ones too, but I can’t even make _one_ person fall in love with another, let alone _more_.”

“Why do they have to be in love?

Shige tilts his head in confusion at Koyama’s expectant face. “Why...?”

“...do they have to be in love,” Koyama repeats.

“Because soulmates are in love?”

“Not necessarily. Soulmates are connected by fate but not always romantically. Look at us.”

“What about us,” Shige says flatly, and Koyama lets out a laugh.

“ _Relax_ , I’m not confessing to you or anything. But we’re connected by _something_ , right? Twenty years ago when we met online, we had literally no reason to keep talking, but we did anyway. Despite being three years apart, living in different neighborhoods, and later on working in different fields. Even now, we have pretty much nothing in common, yet we’ve lived together forever.”

“It’s just easier to stay here than bother with getting my own place!” Shige exclaims defensively. “Do you want me to move out or something?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all! Are you even listening to me?”

Shige shakes his head like that’s going to make him stop spiralling. The downside to having an active imagination is that it tries to predict what’s going to happen in real life too. When Shige’s already freaked out like this, it’s hard to tell the difference.

“You’re saying that _we_ are soulmates,” he finally gets out.

“In a way, yes. But not the way everyone else writes it. Maybe it’ll be the way _you_ write it.”

Shige wrinkles his nose as he thinks about having feelings for Koyama. It’s true that they’ve known each other since they were kids and have lived together over half that long, but Koyama’s more like a steady fixture in his life than someone he would have any kind of interest in. Shige’s always seen him like a best friend or an older brother, even if Shige was usually the more responsible of the pair as the younger one.

“Soulmates are just people who are destined to be together in some kind of way,” Koyama goes on. “Don’t you think that applies to us?”

“Only if you take out the romantic feelings,” Shige answers. “I can honestly tell you that I’ve never thought of you that way for one minute in my entire life.”

“I’m a little offended,” Koyama jokes, and Shige rolls his eyes. “Seriously though, we talk about _everything_ and we trust each other more than anyone else. I’ve always known in the back of my mind that when I do meet someone I want to marry, they’re going to have to accept you as my most important person, because there’s literally nothing and no _one_ in this whole world who can keep us apart.”

Shige starts as those words hit him somewhere deep. Already he’s cataloging them into his memory for future reference, even if he hasn’t quite accepted this plot twist in his own reality yet.

“Isn’t that what a soulmate is?” Koyama goes on, curling up on his side to face Shige with his whole body (and cat). “Being deeply connected in a way that _transcends_ romantic love?”

“When did you get so philosophical?” Shige asks stubbornly.

Koyama shrugs. “All this anime, I guess. Most of them value platonic companionship over romantic interest, probably because they’re aimed at kids. It’s not until we get older that we shift our focus, right? There’s something to be said for just having someone to go on adventures and take on the world with. I’ve always thought that person for me is you.”

A sharp burst of air forces its way into Shige’s lungs by no active direction of his own. He doesn’t quite know what he feels right now, just that he’s feeling a _lot_ of it and it’s physically tingling in his fingertips.

“I have to write,” he blurts out as he gets to his feet, which carry him down the hall to his bedroom-slash-office.

“You’re welcome!” Koyama calls out after him.

Shige can’t type fast enough, throwing together a quick outline so that he can get started. He creates two women in their early twenties who met as teenagers due to their soulmate connection but _don’t_ have feelings for each other, navigating their complicated feelings and society’s resistance to how they choose to express their bond.

The more he writes, the more he becomes aware of the other soul in his heart, the one that’s been lingering just underneath the surface of his conscience since before he can remember. Somehow without knowing it, he’s managed to intertwine his entire life with Koyama’s, to the point where he doesn’t have to feel lonely because Koyama’s always there.

Suddenly he _gets_ it, because the imprint on his being feels just like a brand on his skin. An intangible thread that connects them, heart to heart, so strongly that it feels realms above the mortal world. This awareness remains throughout the night, when Shige finally drags himself to bed after writing well into the early morning, to the next day when Koyama’s mom comes by and they all catch up on chores, and well into the following weeks and months as Shige writes and then edits the fictional representation of their story to offset the traditional soulmate universe.

Maybe his readers will be disappointed and it won’t sell, but Shige already feels like he’s overcome the challenge.


End file.
